


Saving Kisses

by aphoenixinwriting



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, First Love, Other, There must always be a Stark in Winterfell
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-11
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-04-20 06:16:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4776719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aphoenixinwriting/pseuds/aphoenixinwriting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a short series of oneshots about the pairing of Bran Stark and Meera Reed. All Bran can think about is Meera. He believes if he saves her life she will reward him. Fluff. Some minor offensive language in a later chapter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Betrothed!

Meera Reed. Even her name was pretty. Bran watched her from his window as she played games with the Walders, Rickon, and Beth Cassel. He wanted to be down there with them—with her. He wondered if he would be betrothed to her if his father were alive. No, it would be Robb; he was her age and the heir of Winterfell, now King in the North.

Bran frowned. He had to push the idea from his mind. He would not be able to marry. He was broken. Without the use of his legs he would make a poor husband. The thought hurt more than the fall from the tower.

"She is a pretty girl," Maester Luwin said.

Bran blushed. He had been distracted and never saw Maester Luwin enter.

"I was keeping an eye on them because that is my duty as a prince to watch out for my people," said Bran.

He knew Maester Luwin saw through his lie, though neither of them acknowledged it.

"Yes, my prince, it is," Maester Luwin told Bran.

He had come to tend to Bran since Hodor was cleaning the stables. Bran stared out the window while Maester Luwin chose clothes for him. He watched Meera twirl a strand of her long hair around her finger.

"Would I be able to marry?" Bran asked as Maester Luwin dressed him in a white satin tunic, grey breeches, and a leather jerkin with the dire wolf of Stark on the breast.

Bran had been taught how babes were made, and he knew that he would never be able to father sons, but what he never understood was why that stopped him from marrying. Did anyone marry for love rather than duty?

"You are a prince, Bran; you can do as you please."

Bran knew that was a lie. It would please him to walk again, and that was never going to happen. Bran thought of Meera. Could she love a cripple?

"Is something else troubling you, Bran?" Maester Luwin asked when Bran had quieted.

"Is Meera betrothed to anyone?" Bran asked.

Maester Luwin smiled. He moved to the window to sit beside Bran. His heavy chain clinked as he walked.

"No, Bran, is she not."

"She's a woman grown now. Whose duty is it to arrange a marriage for her?" Bran asked.

"Usually her father, the Lord of the castle, or the king," Maester Luwin said.

"Her father is not here, and neither is Robb. I am Lord of Winterfell now, it's my duty then," Bran said.

"Yes, Bran, that is your duty. Would you like me to get a parchment and make the arrangements? Theon Greyjoy would be a good match for Meera," Maester Luwin said.

"No need to make arrangements. Meera will not be marrying Theon Greyjoy. She will not be marrying anyone," Bran said, staring at her from his window. Her hair blowing in the wind reminded him of Arya. He smiled.

_If I can't have her no one can,_ Bran thought.

"Very well, Bran, may I get anything else for you?" asked Maester Luwin.

Bran had not heard him. He smiled, for a moment, for Bran's innocence. The smile vanished quickly for Bran's fate. He will never walk again, and he will never be able to father sons. Maester Luwin left Bran to his dreams.

 


	2. Wolf's Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bran thinks about a future with Meera.

Bran had known Theon Greyjoy his whole life. He had grown up with him always around. He considered Theon somewhat of another brother to him. That was why it was confusing. How could he betray them? Did he hate them the whole time? Bran wanted to ask.

He wondered if Robb knew of Theon's betrayal. He must not, if he had known he would have been furious and requested Theon's head on a pike. He would more than likely cut off his head himself as their father would have.

Yet, Bran still found it hard to believe that the betrayal happened. Theon had saved him from the wildlings and the deserters of the Night's Watch. Had he done it so Robb would pat his head?

Bran wanted to hate Theon. How could he feel hate toward someone who had been a brother to him his whole life? Theon promised not to hurt Bran or Rickon, which made hating him even harder.

It was not until they had feasted with the Ironborn did Bran truly feel hated of Theon Greyjoy. Theon had all the women in Winterfell, highborn or lowborn, line up in front of him while he touched or groped each in turn.

Bran watched Greyjoy fondle Meera's chest. Anger boiled up inside him. There was nothing he could do. He was helpless.

"A bit too young for my taste, but I think I'll fuck you anyway," said Theon, slapping Meera on the back of her thighs.

"No, she's mine!" Bran shouted.

The north men, women, children, and the Ironborn all gaped at him before laughter erupted in the great hall. Bran blushed.

Theon laughed. He ruffled Bran's hair in an elder brotherly way that only fueled Bran's hatred.

"You want to fuck her, Bran? Don't worry, you'll get a turn," Theon said smiling.

Bran hated that smile. Jon was right Greyjoy was an ass. Theon slid his hand into the top of Meera's tunic to fondle her breasts. Bran wanted to run him through with a knife.

No one saw the direwolf before it jumped out at Theon and snapped at his throat. Meera was able to get away. She leaned against the wall behind Bran.

"Call off your beast," Theon begged.

"You will never touch Meera again or I will let Summer have you," Bran told Theon.

"I yield," Theon said.

"Summer, to me," Bran said.

The gray dire wolf showed his teeth to Greyjoy, growled and took his place at Bran's side. Bran stroked his thick fur. Summer licked Bran's hand.

"I will wear that beast as a coat if it attacks me again," said Theon.

 _Not if he kills you first,_ Bran thought. Hodor carried Bran back to his bedchamber. Meera followed close, and Summer padded along beside them. Hodor put Bran on his bed. He searched a trunk for Bran's bed clothes. Meera sat down on the edge of Bran's bed.

"Hodor," said Hodor.

"Thank you, Bran," Meera said.

She put her lips against Bran's cheek. He turned a red darker than his mother's hair and was thankful it was too dark in the room for Meera to notice.

"Summer will escort you to your bedchamber," Bran said.

He wanted her to be safe. There was no one he trusted more than Summer now that Rodrik Cassel was away. Meera patted Summer and they left together. Hodor dressed Bran for bed.

"I think I could love her, Hodor," said Bran, touching the cheek she kissed.

" _Hodor_ ," said Hodor.

Bran closed his eyes. It was no wolf dream he had. It was a dream of a future where he could walk and Meera was his wife with his son in her arms.


	3. Little Lord

"Osha, do you believe in love?" Bran asked the wildling woman.

She was carrying him to the godswood to pray. Hodor was away, and Bran was tired of being in his bedchamber. The godswood was the only place Theon Greyjoy allowed Bran and Rickon to go freely. Osha sat Bran on the edge of a stream in front of a weirwood.

"I believe in many things, little lord," Osha said.

"Do you believe it's possible to love someone who is broken?" Bran asked.

He thought inexplicably of Meera—the way her long hair curled around her cheeks, the soft green color of her eyes. Ever since Meera and her brother, Jojen, had come to Winterfell Bran had not been able to get her off his mind.

"Are you in love, little lord?" Osha asked.

Bran blushed. He could tell her about Meera. If his brother Robb were around he would tell him. Robb would listen, but would he understand? Still, they were alone, and there was no one else.

"Do you think if I were a man grown and not a cripple I could be a good match for Meera?" Bran asked. Osha laughed at him. _I didn't think so either,_ Bran thought. He wished his brothers were around to talk to.

Robb had been popular with the girls in Winterfell, even girls older than he was. If he had been there, Robb would most likely be Meera's choice as well. Bran frowned.

"Are you talking about me, Bran?" Meera asked.

He had been talking and never heard Meera or his direwolf Summer walk up behind them. Bran stroked Summer's head and scratched his ears. Meera sat down between Bran and Osha. She skipped a rock across the water, when she grabbed for another her hand touched Bran's. He turned pink and pulled his hand away.

"Why are you here?" He asked.

"Greyjoy won't leave me alone," Meera said. She leaned against Bran. He liked the clean smell of her. She wore scented oils that smelled like a flower that did not grow in Winterfell.

"I could ask Osha to stay with you a couple of nights," Bran said.

"Could I sleep in your bedchamber with you?" Meera asked.

Bran turned scarlet. Meera wanted to share his bed. He was too young to do anything that would disgrace her good name or her honor, but the right thing to do would have been to say no. He wanted her safe. There was no safer place than at his side.

"Yes," Bran said, his throat was dry as if he swallowed hot soup and it burned all the way down. Osha laughed. Bran shook his head at her.

"You are kind, my lord, I will tell Jojen," Meera said right before she kissed Bran on the cheek. She ran off to find Jojen. Summer laid his head down on Bran's hand and stared up at him.

"Our little lord is in love, wolf," Osha told Summer.

Bran was smiling. Meera had kissed him again. It was twice he saved her, and twice she kissed his cheek. _Perhaps a third time might get me a kiss on the lips,_ Bran thought turning as red as an apple.

 


End file.
